Her Home, His Bed
by Bonzodog
Summary: There’s no logical reason why you should be here. You’re curled up in a bed, but it’s the wrong one" JD/Perry slash. Small amount of JD/Elliot. Rated T for 'The F Word'


**Sorry I haven't updated! I've spent most of this summer wandering in and out of illness. Very. Annoying. Plus I just got my Seether CD to in the post (WOO!!), and I'm expecting another one of their CDs any day now. So anyways, this is another 'spur of the moment' thing. 'Pale' got mixed reviews, so I'm worried about how this will fare. I know, I know, I should be updating Countdown. And I am currently writing Chapter Three (Woo!).**

**Little AU bits:JD and Dr Cox live together in an apartment.**

**Enjoy and please review!**

You don't know why you're here. There's no logical reason why you should be here. You're curled up in a bed, but it's the wrong one. There's a pale blonde girl curled up against your chest, and you know that when she wakes up she'll want to talk with you, about relationships, about 'what his could be'. You couldn't be less enthusiastic if there was a gun pressed to your head. But this makes no sense. There's a beautiful girl, the girl of your dreams, murmuring slightly in her sleep as she pulls you closer, and you just feel…… _wrong_. Wrong is the only way to describe it. You feel sick to your stomach, your head hurts. You're sweaty, you're panicky. The only thing you want is out, and you know she won't wake up but what if she _does? _What if just this one time she does?

"_This is the wrong fucking bed" _Your mind screams at you. It's three in the morning, why are you awake? You shouldn't be awake! You should be fast asleep, dreaming of her bouncy hair and gorgeous eyes and the way her eyes crinkle when she laughs. But instead an older face comes to mind, with a stronger body and a deeper, huskier voice. You eventually sit up. The idea of him is just _too much. _You can't stay here, you can't lie here any longer. Not in this bed, her bed. The air smells of her perfume, and the smell of apples lies lightly on the thick pink duvet. Her hair splays over the pillow, her face peaceful. For a second, guilt flickers across your face. She'll never know what's running through your head, you'll make sure of that. She's messed up enough already.

You swing your legs over the side of the bed, feeling around with your hands to make sure you don't hit anything. _This is your fault, _you tell yourself. _So what, you and him argued again? You should have stayed. But no, you went back to Elliot and he went back to Jordan. He's probably with her now._ Then 'the voice' pipes up. The voice of reason, or the voice of impending doom. It varies. Sometimes they're the same.

_What if he remembers why he fell for Jordan? _The voice whispers in your ear. _What if he realises he doesn't love you any more?_

You try to shake it off, but it's hard. The voice nags in your ear, slips into your unconsciousness until you begin to believe it. So you fumble about in the blackness, your eyes not quite yet adjusted. You find your jeans and tug them on. Your t shirt was ripped sometime last night, but you pull it on anyway. Running your fingers through your hair, you tread carefully, making sure you don't hit a floorboard that creaks. The last thing you want is for her to wake up and find you leaving her. But Elliot never wakes up- right?

You grab your trainers, almost picking up her high heels in the confusion of the dark. Out the door, the sudden brightness blinds you. You wonder why the kitchen light is still on for a second, before memories helpfully stream into your head.

_Her opening the door, complaining that it was late. You grabbing her, pulling her close, pressing her mouth to yours. Her taking control, dragging you into her room._

Ahh. That would explain it. You trip over the light you pulled over in your rush to her room, and hold back a stream of swear words. Limping, you make it to the front door. The key's still in the door and you twist it, slipping the key into your pocket and stepping out into the night.

The outside is no lighter than Elliot's room. Your eyes have adjusted by now, though, and your eyes find the right path. You feet slip along it, padding quietly against the floor. You rehearse lines in your head.

"_It meant nothing………"_

"_I'm so sorry….."_

"_I was being stupid…."_

They wouldn't work, would they? No, they wouldn't. Screw this, you decide. You might as well improvise on the spot. At least it would make it seem like it was from the heart. Which, knowing you, it will be. You replay last nights events in your head. An argument. You can't remember what it was about. But it must have been one fight too many, because you stuffed clothes into bags and stormed out the door, straight to her house, where you knew warm arms and kind words would be waiting for you.

What had he done, you wonder. Had he gone to Jordan, or to the bar? You stop in the middle of the street. Where to head to? Where would he be? You try the bar, tentatively pushing the door. It's locked, of course it's locked, it's 3AM. That only leaves Jordan's house. You gulp, before changing direction and heading for her house. She'll kill you if he's not there and you wake her up for nothing. Hell, she'll probably kill you anyway. She still scares you- in fact, he still scares you. After a year and a half 'together', he still scares the shit out of you sometimes. Is that normal? Before you can ponder on that question, you're lying on the ground.

You know there must have been some transfer, some moment where you stopped being upright. But all you remember was walking, and then the wet grass was soaking your jeans. A voice snaps in the dark.

"For fuck's sake, watch where you're going!" The voice is hoarse, angry.

"I should watch where I'm going? What about YOU?" You fire back. You normally wouldn't, but want to get there as quickly as possible.

"Me? I-" There was a pause. And then, a voice as inquisitive and innocent as a five year old's came. "Newbie?"

You're silent. Is that Perry? You should know, after a year and a half together. But you chucked quite a lot of drinks down your throat before you went to _hers._

"Carol? Is that you?"

You open your mouth to answer, but close it. You don't know what your doing, why you're out of bed at 3AM, why you're lying in a puddle in the dark. Surely he can't be worth all this. But then, the voice comes again, and this time it's somehow….. Softer.

"JD?" There's a pause, like someone bracing themselves to say something they don't want to. "I'm sorry, JD."

You sit up, stand up. Your arms wrap around him and your lips find his. After a suitable moment of shock, he kisses you back. You eventually pull back, as the cloud covering the moon peels itself away and light shines down. His face shows up, a rare smile covering it. Not sarcastic, not mocking. Just…. A smile.

"C'mon JD" He says, wrapping an arm around your waist. "Let's go home."


End file.
